Hard Case 12: Climate of Chaos (John Harding)

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  Nick smiled, glancing at the gorgeous woman holding his hand while stroking his thigh with the other, all the while getting verbally lynched, because his crew could hear every word. “You do not know Rachel. I appreciate having a woman as beautiful as you attracted to me. Thank you. It is a great compliment.”

  Nick drained his beer and Eric gave him another. “Oh boy… this is good, Eric. I believe I will be able to entertain for at least another set.”

  “Excellent, Nick! Thank you. This has been a blast with you entertaining.”

  Someone knocked at the door and Gus broke in with a serious statement. “Jian monitors the cam in the hallway on our monitor. A huge guy arrived at the Strickland’s door and he doesn’t look happy.”

  Nick cleared his throat… the signal he understood the message. Pam answered the door. She seemed happy at first. “Hank! It’s good to see you.”

  “Is Serena here, Pam?”

  “Ah… yeah… she’s having a martini at the bar with us. Would you like a martini?”

  “Sounds good.” Hank marched over to the other side of a now slightly annoyed Serena. He shook hands with Eric. “Barkeep… I’ll have a martini… very dry.”

  “On its way, Hank. How have you been?”

  “Pretty good. I see Pam is about due.”

  “She is, indeed. How’s work?”

  “The economy is good, so I’m booming at the dealership.” Hank noticed Serena had drew away from the guy next to her as he walked over. “How come you didn’t tell me you were coming to the party?”

  Serena shrugged. “It was a lastminute thing. I’m glad I did though. The major here has been most entertaining.”

  “Really? What do you do, major?”

  Nick held out his hand, giving Hank a short but lethal handshake. “I’m Nick McCarty. I agreed to entertain on the piano and sing for my friends, the Stricklands.”

  “Why are you in that uniform instead of civilian clothes?”

  “Choice mostly,” Nick answered. “On business in DC, I am requested by my boss to wear it.”

  “I wouldn’t think this bunch would appreciate it,” Hank said.

  “Most of them already know me. They don’t mind.” Looking closer into Hank’s eyes, Nick could tell the very dry martini Hank chugged wasn’t his first of the evening.

  “You look like a fake to me. Did you ever serve in any service for real?” Hank asked with a smirk.

  Eric reached over to grip Hank’s wrist as he delivered another very dry martini. “Don’t do this, Hank. Nick’s the real deal. He agreed to entertain for the night, but Nick can do many things you don’t want to learn the hard way about.”

  “Maybe he can sing and dance… but he’s a phony,” Hank decreed.

  Nick brightened, retrieved a folded paper from his wallet, and handed it to Eric. “It’s okay, Eric. I always carry a copy of my DD214.”

  Eric and Pam clustered around the paper. “Holy shit, Nick!”

  Eric handed the paper to Hank, who read it with Serena also viewing it.

  “This is a copy, Hank, but the seal and everything else is the real thing,” Serena said.

  Hank folded and tossed the copy back to Nick. “Oh good… another war hero.”

  The Terminator flashed into view as Nick stood. “I wasn’t a hero… but I served with heroes. I’ll go start my set. Get your dancing shoes on, Hank.”

  Nick walked to the piano amidst welcoming applause.

  “Do not anger that man, Hank! Maybe you and Serena should call it a night.”

  “I’m not afraid of any man, Eric.”

  “Nobody’s saying you’re afraid,” Pam added. “We’re telling you straight out, from personal experience, as we already explained to Serena, Nick is a killer. Eric and I have read a lot about him since Nick helped us get away from Rackson-Gree. Nick runs his own Deputy US Marshal Special Operations Unit on the West Coast. They are called into violent situations where everything else has failed. When they arrive, his unit is not there to arrest anyone.”

  Pam’s pleading began to make an impression on Hank. “C’mon, Serena, let’s go somewhere else like Eric suggested.”

  “I’m staying. This Nick guy is the most interesting man I think I’ve ever met. You go ahead. I’ll call you sometime, Hank.”

  Hank listened to Nick and watched the rest of the guests dancing. “He can sing and play piano. That’s for sure. I… hey… I recognize him. He sang the National Anthem at the last couple UFC events, featuring the heavyweight championship bout with ah… John Harding. The uniform and buzzcut hair threw me off.”

  “We didn’t know that,” Eric said. “We don’t watch UFC matches.”

  “So… now you’re a fan, Hank?” Serena asked.

  Hank shrugged. “He can sing. It was one of the best renditions of the Anthem I’ve heard.”

  Nick began to play It’s The Same Old Song, and Hank moved away from the bar. “Want to dance, Ser?”

  “Not right now.”

  “How about you, Pam?”

  “Sure, Hank, but don’t step on my feet.”

  “You have my word on it.” Hank led Pam out into the cleared space.

  “Hank’s a nice guy,” Eric remarked.

  “I’m bored with nice guys. For one night, I want a bad boy like Nick. Do you think I have a chance of seducing Nick?”

  “Nope. He’s one of those bad boys who are only bad if you cross them.”

  Serena sipped her martini, thoughtfully going over in her mind how best to win over Nick. Serena had never failed to seduce any man she fancied, whether it be for a night, or an hour. It bothered her that Nick never even glanced her way. Hank brought Pam back to the bar after dancing through a couple of Nick’s songs. He finished his martini and said goodnight, leaving without saying anything more to Serena. Nick took another break and accepted a Dos Equis beer Eric handed him. Other guests swarmed around the bar, requesting drinks from Eric and Pam.

  “Muerto! Two of the gangbangers are approaching the apartment,” Gus warned. “Do you want us to intercept them?”

  Nick moved aside, taking out his iPhone and pretending to be answering a call. “Are their hands empty? This could be the break we need.”

  “They’re dressed up nice to gain entry,” Gus answered. “If I hadn’t studied their faces, I would not have recognized them. Their hands are empty, and I don’t see any obvious weapons.”

  “Good. I’ll answer the door. You guys move in from behind when I distract them.” Nick turned to Eric. “You have visitors. I’ll get the door.”

  “Okay, Nick.” Eric whispered the news to Pam as a knock sounded at the door.

  Nick opened the door, only to have the two gangbangers try to shove into the room. Nick used a forked hand strike to the first one’s throat to halt their entry. He kneed the second one in the groin before blasting a knee to the man’s face as he jackknifed downwards in pain. Nick’s crew moved quickly to drag the two away into the adjoining room.

  “Damn… who were those guys?” Tony asked.

  Nick turned, seeing everyone in the place witnessed what happened. “They’re men hired by Leila Rackson-Gree to harass Eric and Pam into recanting their testimony. My Deputy US Marshal’s Unit was ordered to protect them by the Attorney General. We didn’t expect them to try and barge in here tonight. Excuse me for a moment.”

  * * *

  Serena finished off her martini and held it for Eric to refill. “You weren’t kidding about Nick. That is one dangerous man.”

  “Yes, but if you have dangerous people after you, there’s no one better to have standing next to you,” Pam replied.

  “I see that. What do you think will happen to those men?”

  Eric looked to Pam for guidance. Pam shook her head in the negative. “Ah… we assume he arrests them on federal charges as he did with our ex-boss, Rackson-Gree.”

  “Or maybe they’re never heard from again,” Serena said.

  “Or that,” Pam admitted.

  * * *r />
  Nick hurried into the adjoining room. He examined the writhing one, still trying to recover from the knee strike. “Good. I didn’t get his nose. I didn’t see any trace of them in the hallway. They tried to bust in, probably to terrorize the partygoers.”

  “That makes sense,” Johnny said. “If all six had come, they would have been stopped by security no matter how they were dressed. They have knives, but nothing else.”

  “The one you struck in the throat can’t talk,” Gus said. “He’s having trouble breathing. I think you may have broken something inside. We asked how these two got here. The one with the broken mouth claims they took an Uber. They don’t have any type of vehicle key. We’ll confirm their identities later.”

  Nick looked at the throat damaged man, gasping for air. “He’s not turning blue. I think he’ll be fine walking down to the van. Take them both to the safehouse. I have an idea better than our former plan.”

  “Wait! Get me… to a hospital!” The man who had been kneed in the groin and face, struggled to a sitting position, clutching his jaw, and spitting out pieces of teeth. “I need a doctor!”

  Groans sounded from the Unholies, but Claude Chardin watched Nick’s face with amusement.

  “You are in luck,” Nick told the man. “Dr. Muerto is in the house. Where does it hurt, my good man?”

  “My… my teeth… they’re broken… you asshole!”

  Nick peered downward. “Move your hands and let Dr. Muerto see. I’m sure I have something for the pain.”

  The man lowered his hands, lifting his face toward Nick, who promptly chopped him in the throat with a side-hand strike. The man collapsed, gripping his neck. “There you are. I bet you can’t even feel the pain in your teeth now. Another successful pain redeployment by Dr. Muerto.”

  “Are you staying to entertain some more, Muerto?” Jian asked.

  “Yes. I’ll stay for a while in case these guys’ buddies check on them before I can join you. Show them our cleansing videos, Johnny… just to get them in the mood.”

  “I will do it the moment we get to the safehouse. I wish you were armed.”

  “I have my knife and this.” Nick pulled up his pantleg, revealing a small automatic. “It’s only a .32 caliber, but it will be fine in an emergency. See you guys in an hour and a half.”

  “That Serena really wants you, Muerto,” Gus said.

  “She’s one of those types who want anything they can’t have. I’ll handle it.”

  Nick left the room as his crew patched the damaged gangbangers with a couple of Vicodin each. Gus needed to mash up the tablets into a solution. Nick knocked on the Stricklands’ door. Pam answered after a moment with a fresh Dos Equis, Nick accepted gratefully.

  “Bless you, sister.” Nick took a long swallow and returned to the bar. He also ate from the tray of treats, because Nick would need to drive the other van over to the safehouse.

  Serena hurried over to join him from where she had been talking with Jack and Barb, two other acquaintances from the last party Nick attended. “All the women want you and all the men want to be you.”

  Nick narrowly avoided shooting beer out of his nostrils. “Don’t… don’t do that.”

  “What can I say? I needed to seize the moment,” Serena replied, as Eric and Pam enjoyed the humor of the moment. “I want you too. Come home with me.”

  “Ah… no… I am happily married, and I have official business to take care of.”

  “Meaning make your prisoners disappear?”

  The Terminator arrived in Nick’s features instantly. “Listen closely, Serena. Do not make wild statements like that again. You may think you’re being cute. You’re not.”

  Startled, Serena gripped Nick’s hand in both hers. “I’m sorry. You’re right. That was stupid. I want to have your baby and I couldn’t think of any trite conversation.”

  Serena’s remark lightened the moment and Nick, Eric and Pam, all showed appreciative amusement. Serena breathed in with relief.

  Nick stood with beer in hand. “I’ll play another set just to make sure we don’t get any more uninvited guests.”

  Serena grasped Nick’s free hand. “Sing a song with me. Do you know Con Te Partiro?”

  Nick hesitated, thinking of Rachel. “Yes… I know it.”

  “Come then,” Serena drew Nick toward the piano. “You warm up with the opening strains and I’ll begin first.”

  “You lead… I’ll follow.”

  Nick sat with Serena near him but not close enough to be in his way. Nick played an enchanting rendition of the famous duet song, drawing the music to the female singer’s opening. Serena sang, hitting the operatic notes with power. Their audience was spellbound as Nick sang in his best imitation of Andrea Bocelli. By the time Nick and Serena finished in searing duet, their audience applauded, whistled, shouted and congratulated the two profusely.

  Serena hugged Nick, wiping tears from her eyes. “One more, Nick… please?”

  “What would you like to sing?”

  “Can you sing La Vie En Rose in French?”

  Nick smiled. “I can.”

  Nick began a long lead-in to the song, before beginning the opening talking melody with quiet fervor. When he sang the melody, Serena joined him in perfect complimenting fashion. The two finished in heartfelt form to another appreciative ovation. Serena again clasped her arms around Nick for a moment.

  “Thank you.” Serena stumbled away from the piano and stopped for a moment to say goodbye to Eric and Pam.

  As she gathered her things and walked to the door, Nick played Vivo Per Lei, singing the opening, and stopping Serena cold. She smiled, turning as he reached the female singer’s part. Serena sang from across the room, matching each escalating duet part until the stirring end. She waved and left without another word as again their audience responded in wild appreciation. Nick then played Autumn Leaves, singing it in French. Nick continued to entertain for another forty-five minutes, ending the set with the Nessun Dorma. When he stood to go, he thought for a moment his audience planned to physically try and restrain him.

  “I’m sorry. I really do need to leave. You’ve all been wonderful. Thank you. Next time I’m in DC, maybe Eric and Pam will host another party.”

  “Count on it!” Eric waved.

  Pam walked him to the door. “Like Serena said… you are amazing. Her name is Serena Wolf. I believe it’s a stage name. I’ve known her for a long time but never knew she could sing like that.”

  “Serena could sing professionally. Maybe she does.”

  “I think she does live stage. Goodbye, Nick. You’ll call us if the problem is resolved?”

  “Absolutely. Goodnight.” Nick stopped next door to change. He also deposited his Kevlar and weapons in the equipment bag left for him by Gus.

  Nick’s phone pinged a moment before he reached his rented van. “Hi, Rach… any problems at home?”

  “Jean, Jay and Sonny have been keeping track of everything in DC since you left, including all the social and video sites, like good old YouTube.”

  Uh oh. “I’m just now going to meet my crew at a CIA safehouse where I hope to entrap the gangbangers threatening the Stricklands. I plan to be home within a day or two.”

  “That’s nice. I’m certain Serena is keeping you warm and cozy.”

  “No one is keeping me warm and cozy, dingbat. I sang with her at the Stricklands’ party where we captured Matthew Murray, the corrupt DOJ lawyer who tried to kill Tim and Grace.”

  Nick could hear the kids laughing in the background. “You have me on speaker, dingbat.”

  Rachel shushed the kids. “Not anymore. The kids wanted to surprise you with how diligent they’ve been in your absence, player.”

  “One upload of me entertaining and now I’m a player?”

  “Exactly.”

  “If it’s any consolation, I was networking with the guys during the party. I listened to them rag my ass the whole time. I should have known someone would record the party and upload i
t.”

  “I miss you.”

  “I miss you too… but I’ve only been gone a couple days. I’m glad I was home when Quinn took his first steps. I bet you’ve had to watch him like a hawk.”

  “Quinn decided I needed exercise. We climb up and down the stairs all day with Deke mimicking every move.”

  “Sounds like fun. I’ll be home to help very soon. I need to go now and complete the second part of this mission.”

  “Okay. Bye… love.”

  “Bye… dingbat.” Nick disconnected, grinning at Rachel’s gasp.

  * * *

  Nick arrived at the CIA safehouse with equipment bag in hand. Claude answered the door. “Hey… Bad Penny… did Dr. Muerto go too far?”

  Claude chuckled. “Almost. The first guy died on the way here. The one Dr. Muerto helped regained his speech after being shown the Dr. Muerto cleansing. Rackson-Gree’s lawyer, Harold Batiste, acts as the go-between. He hired the six gangbangers in Philadelphia. They belong to the Tenth and Thompson Streets gang – TNT gang for short.”

  “Oh good… imported thugs.” Nick followed Claude to the basement, where the Unholies talked with the surviving gangbanger.

  “Mosel Heddington wants to help us in any way he can, right Mose?” Johnny asked.

  “I…I will do anything you say. I’m dead anyway. I don’t want to die… like in the video.”

  “You won’t if you make a phone call to your friends and tell them to meet you here,” Nick advised.

  “I’ll do it. I don’t know if they’ll come though. This… was supposed to be… an easy gig. Batiste paid us twenty-five hundred apiece… with twenty-five hundred more if we scared the Stricklands into clearing R-G.”

  “Tell Muerto why you tried to crash the party tonight,” Gus directed.

  “Just to show we could reach them… even at home. Batiste told me to offer them twenty-grand to free R-G.”

  “Are you able to contact Batiste?”

  “Yeah… I’m supposed to call him tonight and let him know what happened.”

  “I want you to call Batiste first. Tell him the Stricklands will do what he wants for twenty-five grand, but they want to meet him and get the money here in secret. You can explain they’ll even sign off on recanting their testimony, so he needs to bring the paperwork,” Nick explained. “We’ll get Batiste to call and order your friends to come here for the payoff.”